Lady knights of Avalon
Not her favorite photo.
See all of her story pics HERE
For a skirmish, it had its moments. See the full p-hotostory at
Illustration from Ginevra’s Castle story
One of the illustrations in ‘Ginevra’s Castle’. story.
Cleodie, a knight of Avalon
What started as a fashion photo-shoot, with lady knights in the background, escalated. Soon the ladies got carried away. Literally. One on a stretcher, and the other in my arms.
Of course I carried Ryder. She and I have a history. But nothing prepared me for what followed.
Can’t say she actually won, although she fell from her saddle last. Exhausted. Eye-lids fluttering. She couldn’t even shift weight as I unbuckled her armor.
No blood showed on her red body suit. I did look and felt for sticky moisture. Moisture I found, and in abundance. Just not blood. Curious.
She tried to rise, barely lifting her head. “Dixon, are we alone? The exciter has to come out.”
“You’ve got to pull it out. The batteries can explode if they get wet.”
Great grief !
A powered, u’mm, insert? I’d heard rumors. But Allisande? I could scarcely believe what she was saying.
Then I saw a wire covered by her hair.
Wire? I unzipped the back of her spandex body suit. She gasped in relief. The fabric pulled around and bared her breasts.
Least of her problems. A flat gel battery pack was taped at the small of her back, just above where a belt would go.
I yanked off the tape. She winced.
The other end of the wires ended in her scalp.
She knew I found them, “Pull,” she said.
As soon as they were out, she collapsed. Out like a light.
U’mm, maybe I should pull the suit fabric back in place. Couldn’t get it all the way. Flat on her back, the sleeves at the shoulders helped pull up the fabric.
I glanced back to where she had fought Pruscilla. No one. Allisande’s horse waited with the reins hanging to the ground in what I think is called a ‘ground hitch’.
So much I didn’t know; gel batteries, electrodes.
She wasn’t dying, was she? She breathed regular. Should I take her horse and ride for help? No. I can’t leave her.
A small movement of her left thigh, and she roused. “Dix? You still with me?”
I’ve wanted to be with her ever since the fifth grade.
Again, “Dix? It was a dare.”
Oh yeah, I knew about foolish dares.
“Not the fight. Wanted to smack the smirk off her face.”
“You did all of that”
“No, the dare.”
“It, it made me crazy.”
# # #
Which is why the most beautiful girl in the Junior Class sought me out, danced with me, and never let go.
For three whole weeks.